


Under The Cherry Tree

by orphan_account



Category: All Time Low (Band)
Genre: Hanami, Infidelity, M/M, Sakura (Cherry Blossoms)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2020-11-25 20:21:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20918030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A Japanese tour yields new memories to think about past midnight.





	Under The Cherry Tree

"Ri, c'mere!"

Alex was lounging on the couch in the middle of the living room, the _Saturday Movie Night Couch_—they didn't call it that, but in retrospect, they totally should have. He was smoothly surfing through an article that listed must-visit locations to stop by the upcoming Spring.

Rian towered over him from behind, taking a peek over his shoulder. He rested his hand on Alex's head, mussing up his already untidy hair.

"Hey," he said, "what's up?"

"Let's go see the cherry blossoms next year."

Alex scrolled down some more, pictures flooded with pink filling the screen.

"Look," He highlighted some text with the cursor, but Rian was too far from the screen to be able to read it. "there's a place in Nashville, actually."

Rian didn't give it much of a second thought.

"Must be your lucky day, 'cause I've been itching to do something off-tour." He tousled Alex's hair.

Change had come early, and Rian moved out. The rift between them grew with time and the plans were eventually scratched. Alex hadn't gotten around to transforming his room into a studio for a whole year.

His second spring in his life had come precisely seven years too late. It was in Japan. Their hotel room was well appointed for its size, but quiet. It was so quiet he could hear his heartbeat thumping in his ears. The laid-back Osakan atmosphere was a comfort to the buzzed post-show crew.

"Let's go see them."

Alex's unpacking stalled, eyes meeting Rian's.

"What are you on about, dude? See what?" he asked.

Rian let out a sigh, disappointed that Alex seemed to have forgotten. "The cherry blossoms, _duh_," he explained.

After all this time, it was just the two of them in the quiet of a shared room again. Alex was standing beside the bed closer to the window wall, his opened suitcase spewing clothes in front of him. He was fazed at how Rian thought it would be so _obvious_.

"You remember?! Wait, hold on—"

An amiable smile flashed across Rian's face, who was sitting on the verge of the other bed. His hands drummed a catchy rhythm on his thighs, a syncopation to his bouncing leg.

"You're saying that like I forgot in the first place. Of course I remember! If I didn't, you wouldn't let me live it down."

Alex knew he was right, dammit. He tossed the sleeveless shirt he had worn at the show at Rian, all while sporting a frivolous grin.

"Just go take a shower. You stink."

Rian gripped the shirt and tossed it in the general direction of Alex's suitcase.

"Nah, I think I'll just crash for now. It can wait 'till the morning."

Alex was about to criticize Rian's hygiene habits, one rockstar to another—he was desensitized to his own smell, it seemed—until the latter interrupted him.

"Shut up, before you say anything, just—think about The Smurf[1] or sharing a room with Z. I'd say my musk after a show is an acquired taste, but it triumphs in comparison."

"You just want to see me dripping wet so you have some material to wank it to in there, Dawson," said Alex.

Rian's face flushed with color.

"Asshole."

And that's how the two set their sights on sightseeing the next day.

An ornate noren[2] hung over the entrance to the rental shop. The fabric's pattern was a vivid arrangement of flowers, standing out from a navy blue background. There were two slits in the material, bottom to near the top. Alex carefully pushed the strips apart, entering the store. Rian followed closely behind him, taking in the view with appreciation in his eyes.

The interior was surprisingly spacious for a small, traditional-style boutique. It was quaint, in a way. The bloom motif from the cloth fanned out past the sill, present in the simplistic decor, too. The guys were more or less cautious of their steps, not knowing where or when to take their shoes off.

In a few minutes, an English-speaking employee greeted the pair. She was kind enough to show them around while explaining the available rental plans, giving personal recommendations when asked. With her help, Alex managed to pick out a design fit for the occasion—a vibrant indigo kimono enveloped in branches that were splattered with buds and dusty pink cherry blossoms.

Rian was reserved in his taste, he preferred the ones without strong patterns, a plain brown robe catching his eye. But, Alex was pushy and concerned about matching, insisting that Rian should wear a flowery sash as a compromise. That look in Alex's eyes made Rian erase every trace of 'no' from his dictionary.

"Fine," he said, "but I want you to help me choose. Being colorblind in, what I assume, is a store full of color? Not helpful in the slightest."

Alex tried to suppress a laugh.

A dresser assisted them in putting the silken garments on, layers tightly held by sundry knots. Rian went first, spending a meticulous thirty minutes in the changing room. Alex was antsy. He paced from one corner of the room to the opposite, unknowingly wearing out a thin trail in the carpet. The moment the fitting room's curtain was pulled back, he halted in his tracks, those perfect lips curving into a grin.

"Woah, you're... _so_ handsome, man."

Rian thanked Alex, and Alex studied Rian heedfully. It was embarrassing to think that he was tightroping between a schoolboy crush and infatuation to a sickening degree. The thing is, Rian was seriously attractive. The compliment was burning the tip of his tongue, he _had to_ spit it out. It couldn't have stayed buried in the back of his mouth, and there was no downplaying it, either.

He knew he had found his person.

Rian and Alex strolled Osaka's streets, exploring the city together. It was a fine day, partly cloudy. Alex's zōri[3] lightly clacked on the concrete, and Rian couldn't help but notice how their steps harmonized. Now, it was just the two of them, and about a hundred other people caught in the festive rush in the passing. It put a smile on Rian's face, proud and adoring.

Their main objective was collecting snacks and beverages for their picnic, though the thought of buying something for the other did cross both their minds. It's completely normal to feel embarrassed about buying gifts for a close friend.

"Look, Rian!" Alex said, tugging on Rian's sleeve, "A brewery!"

Rian turned his head to glance at Alex, then his hand that was still gripping the kimono.

"What, you wanna buy saké?" he asked, "As in, a whole bottle?"

"You betcha."

Alex moved his hand down Rian's arm, pulling away just before reaching his hand. It was frisky, and in the same breath, fleeting. Rian bowed his head, picking at the fuzz on the fabric. He was tongue-tied. He hated the way Alex dragged him along, and the way he just _let_ him.

"You're the one paying, Gaskarth," he noted.

An elderly man welcomed the guys, who gave a slight nod in response. A diverse array of saké drinks lined up before them, labeled with words neither of them fully understood—_ginjo_ this, _junmai_ that. Signs, and symbols, and a plethora of options. But, they were eager to sample the ones that stood out, glasses brought together in a faint clink.

The faces Rian made when tasting the non-alcoholic or sickly sweet ones elicited a peal of contagious laughter from Alex. Rian couldn't have paraphrased it, turning down words one after another. He was staring. The single adjective that came to mind was Alex—that laugh was distinctly _Alex_. And, to be fair, Rian liked that. He pretended to spill his drink from the empty glass on Alex, who took a step back. But Rian was smiling, and Alex wanted to be drenched in the entire bottle if it meant seeing that smile again.

Their choice, ultimately, was the one recommended by the owner: rich in flavor and at room temperature, served in a small bottle. The string holding the pouch around Alex's waist came loose as he handed the cash over to the shopkeeper.

"Oh," came Alex's voice, "could you help me tie this in the back?"

Rian's face blossomed with red at the appeal, cheeks prickling with a heat he was mortified of sharing. He murmured a short _sure_, hands intimately close to Alex's body, so as to tie up the loose ends. Alex stammered in his goodbye when he felt the touch of Rian's hands on his waist. He had never had it done so tenderly before, have something tied for him, that is. Not even on the first day when his mother tied his tie around his neck. But maybe that isn't a fair comparison to draw.

It started raining. The two of them stood there, under the wooden eaves of the brewery. The wind chime above their heads pleasantly tinkled. Alex clutched the bottle of saké close to his chest, fingers curling into the wrapping cloth. It was light gray, or a dirty white, sparse raindrops trickling through the thin material. They watched the paper lanterns glow at the noodle stand across the street.

The vagrant clouds drifted at snail rate. "It's a shower, it'll pass," said Alex.

Rian looked at him from the corner of his eye, curious. "Probably, yeah." Then, his gaze was riveted to the rainfall, yet again.

Japan was this for them.

Osaka is a city filled with marketplaces, their choice not being an easy one. They winded up at a spacious market with plenty of street food vendors. Walking through the covered shopping arcade, Alex gazed at the multi-colored stained glass curving overhead. Rian had to pull him out of the stream of people by the arm, as if he was a little kid attempting to cross the street without looking both ways. Surrounded by oriental aromas, steaming dishes and strong spices in the air, the two ambled about the shops. _Big In Japan_ was playing through the speakers as Rian kept a protective arm around Alex.

"Isn't it ironic that they're playing this shit here?" Alex asked, not waiting for an answer. "I feel smaller than ever in Japan. Maybe it's the people."

Alex looked at all the people around them, straying in the sea of strangers. Rian was looking at Alex alone.

"Wasn't really thinking about that, to be honest."

"Did you know that it's a song about heroin?"

Rian lightly snorted. "I did _not_."

"The more you know!"

The garden gate was _huge_. Tiles atop the roof, wooden pillars mounted on the stone wall circling the castle... truly, an eye candy of an architecture.

The transient beauty captured in the scenery took Alex's breath away. The sky had cleared up, as if bluing was tinting it, like something you would see in a Miyazaki film. A swift glance over his shoulder at Rian was all it took to ground him, however. Alex was guffawing, with the breath of the wind carrying petals and the beds in the grass molded to and with comfort. The mellow pink and the neighboring bleached blossoms framed the couples in solitude.

Meanwhile, Rian wished they had considered a less popular viewing spot. The dewy grass brayed beneath his feet as he treaded in Alex's footsteps, being careful not to step on blankets laid out by other people. Rian wondered why it felt so nostalgic, despite never having been here.

"Don't you want to sit down somewhere? My feet hurt so bad, dude, and that kick drum ain't gonna play itself."

Alex stopped. In fact, he had stopped completely, turning to face Rian. "Take a photo of me," he said.

_Lead singer syndrome_, thought Rian, meeting his eyes for the entirety of two seconds. "Here?" he asked, backpack slinging off his shoulder. He balanced it on his hip, delving in the top pocket. He had grown used to fulfilling Alex's many needs over the years.

This Alex in question was dawdling to the pond, transfixed by the lonely lantern. No answer seemed to have come from his direction. Rian had assumed he didn't hear him, ready to repeat himself, until he looked up from his worn-out bag. His fingers clenched around his phone in fear of dropping it alongside his jaw that hit the muddy ground. Alex was standing there, the crown jewel beneath the canopy, rocking a half-off shoulder kimono look. It would have been gauche—it _was_ gauche, but Alex's fingers gripped the hem with purpose.

"Yeah, here. I think it's a damn good spot, anyways." He paused for a short moment. "Right, Rian?"

Rian blinked, stupefaction registering on his face. "Yeah, it is pretty," he admitted. His eyes returned to Alex after a glance around them.

He snapped the photo, willing his hands to not tremble like an aspen leaf. And he was about to take another one, for good measure, before his eyes caught something nestled in Alex's hair. He stepped closer, and closer, the space between them suddenly poky.

"There's a petal in your hair, let me..." he muttered, fingers grasping the delicate flower.

"Oh," was all Alex said. 

In the wake of letting go of that petal, the wind licked the salt off Rian's palm. His hand lingered on, longer than it was called for. His stubby fingers combed through Alex's hair, disheveled by that same, caring wind.

"You know," Rian began, voice quiet like he was telling a secret, "these flowers... they remind me of you."

Alex's lips parted. They were spitless, thirsty for the saké they had bought.

"How come?"

"You both smell amazing and... look real pretty," said Rian.

Rian cupped Alex's face tender, the stubble underneath his hand scratchy. He glimpsed at Alex's lips, noticing just how inviting they were. Then, he tilted his head. To the right, like he'd always have. He pressed his lips to Alex's with ease. He covered his mouth in a kiss that meant a thousand things. The world, as they knew it, was moving in slow motion. The want piling up over the years spilled like a dam had broken between their lips.

"You haven't kissed me in a while. I thought you forgot how," whispered Alex.

"I just couldn't find the time." Another kiss wetted their lips. "Can't just walk over to your room and go in without knocking."

Alex's fingers cradled Rian's jaw, the wedding band gleaming on his ring finger.

_It would be a hundred times easier if we were young again._

**Author's Note:**

> 1 All Time Low's US tour bus that had a generator problem and was burning battery acid. It smelled like rotten eggs.[return to text]  
2 A traditional Japanese fabric divider hung between rooms, on walls, in doorways, or in windows.[return to text]  
3 A traditional Japanese style of flip-flop shoe, originally made with a straw sole.[return to text]


End file.
